Rekindled (5 page)

It’s amazing how little has changed during the time I’ve been away. In Los Angeles, a local tea house frequented by women belonging to the Red Hat Society can be flipped into a swanky night club frequented by A-list celebrities faster than you can say
would-you-like-sugar-with-that
? But as I roam down the main strip of sidewalk that makes up the downtown area of McCall, it seems the only thing that’s changed here is Betty McCutcheon’s addition of neon spandex pants to match her hair.

A bell jingles as I step inside
Al’s Pancake World
and am greeted by the smell of maple syrup and blueberries. Aside from a group of teenagers and a man who is clearly very drunk, the place is empty, a product of living in a small town that believes Sundays are meant for only two things: prayer and homemade fried chicken.

I pick up a couple stacks of pancakes and fresh fruit before making my way back to my car. Church must have let out because the sidewalks, which were empty when I arrived, are now bustling with families. A woman wearing a demure grey pantsuit clutches a little girl’s hand as she drags her across the street, ignoring the tantrum she’s throwing in her royal blue dress and black Mary Jane shoes. A man following close behind scowls as he grips his tie and loosens it as they walk past me.

I give the woman a sympathetic smile, remembering Jonah when he was in his terrible two’s phase and the ear-splitting shrieks he’d let out in the middle of the grocery store when I wouldn’t let him have five bars of chocolate, and the disdainful glances from strangers which would inevitably follow, silently asking, “Can’t you control your child?” Luckily, we’re beyond that now. Mostly.

Setting the bags of food on top of my trunk, I fish around in my purse for my keys which have sunk to the bottom beneath a package of tissues, hand sanitizer wipes and a tin of mints. When I hear the approach of heels clicking against the concrete, I turn around, then force my lips into a smile. Three women stand in front of me, looking at me expectantly.

“I didn’t believe it at first. Tommy said he saw you driving into town yesterday, but it’s been so many years since you’ve been back here, I thought there’s no way it could be you. But now, here you are!” Lindsey says as she tucks her bedazzled clutch beneath her arm and swiftly pulls off her cream colored gloves.

“Yep, here I am,” I say grabbing the bags of food and placing them in the backseat of my car, hoping that they’ll get the hint that I’m not really in the mood to play catch-up with them.

Lindsey Stiles was the queen bee back in her beauty pageant heyday, and her two best friends, Bekkah and Trina, were ever the faithful lemmings. With a flair for drama and a penchant for gossip, those three could put TMZ out of business if they ever moved to Los Angeles.

“How are you doing, dear? You know…after everything…” Trina says as she leans forward and whispers the last part of the sentence as if my moving to Los Angeles was equivalent to that of me telling them I had genital herpes. “We were so concerned for you when you just took off without so much as a goodbye.”

“I’m good. Great, actually. But I really should be—”

“Is it true you moved to California because you told your parents you were an atheist and they disowned you?” Bekkah interrupts. “There were quite a few rumors running around after you left. Some people said it was because of your parents, but others were saying it was because after
the incident
, you had a mental breakdown. And then some people even said you were having an affair with Tate Corbin. Of course, we never believed that one for a minute. I mean why would you choose Tate when you had that perfect boyfriend?”

“Exactly,” Trina chimes in. “It’d be like choosing boxed wine over a vintage.”

My stomach tightens with the mention of Tate. I want to ask them if they know what he’s been up to, but refrain from doing so, reminding myself that he’s rejected every attempt I’ve made over the past seven years to contact him. If he’s able to throw out our friendship that easily, I shouldn’t care what he’s up to. I don’t care.

“What was his name again? Zane? Zeke?”

“Zach,” I say, with a tight smile.

“That’s right, Zachary.” Lindsey snaps her perfectly manicured nails and beams at me. “What ever happened with him? Are you still with him? I see you’re not married.” She eyes my left hand and I see it on her face. It’s only there for a split second, but it’s long enough that I recognize it. The silent judgment. The pity.

“It’s complicated.”

“Ah,” they all say collectively, as they nod their heads while looking at each other.

“Well, don’t you worry, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Bekkah says, as she places her hand on my shoulder. “You’re only twenty-five, it’s not too late.”

“And you look great,” Trina says.

“Yes, I just love what you’ve done with your hair.” Lindsey reaches forward and runs her fingers through my unkempt strands. “I had heard somewhere that the whole au natural thing was coming back in style. I guess it must be true.”

Bitch.

“So, listen, Callie, we’re having a girl’s night out, and we’d just love it if you could make it,” Trina says while adjusting her oversized church hat so that it blocks the sunlight from her freckled face.

“Well, I’m afraid tonight isn’t going to work for me,” I say, relieved to have a legitimate reason to say no. “I promised my son I’d take him out for ice cream tonight.”

Surprise registers on all their faces. “Oh, you have a son?” Bekkah suddenly looks a few shades paler.

“Yes, he’s six.”

“Oh, you poor dear.” Trina pouts. “A single mother at twenty-five?”

“It’s really not that—”

“Callie, sweetheart.” Lindsey cuts me off and pulls me into a hug. “You just let us know if you need help. I knew a girl in college who was a single mother. She ended up overdosing on prescription pain pills from the stress of it all. It was such a travesty.”

I pull out of her embrace, reminding myself that my being locked up in jail for assault would only make things worse for Jonah.

“And after everything you’ve already been through.”

“You know, we never blamed you for what happened that night.” All three pairs of eyes zone in on me. “I know the rest of the town blamed you, but you know us, we’re good people and we don’t judge others.”

They all nod enthusiastically at each other, and I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I’m about three seconds from running inside Al’s Pancake World and gouging my eyes out with one of their forks, just so I’ll have an excuse to get away from them.

“Well, listen, it’s been really great catching up with you all, but I need to get this food home to my son and then start looking for a job. So, I’ll see you guys later.” I give them a small wave as I start to get into my car.

“Oh, what kind of job are you looking for?” Bekkah asks.

“A paying one, preferably.” I joke.

“So then, you moved here without having a job lined up? What were you doing for work in California? Weren’t you supposed to become a doctor?”

I swallow, wishing my parents hadn’t advertised it all over town when I was growing up that I was going to be the world’s best doctor.

“I actually ended up becoming a hair stylist.”

“Oh honey, I can’t imagine having to go from wanting to be a doctor to cutting hair for a living.” Lindsey shakes her head. “No offense.”

Bekkah nods in agreement. “It would be hard. Although, it’s still better than having to be a waitress. I heard that Trista just fired two servers for stealing from the register. I mean, I can’t even imagine the kind of desperation you’d have to be in to do that.”

I can.

“Is she still running
Red’s Bar and Grill
?” I ask, unable to contain the hope that’s weaved into my tone.

“Yeah, but honey, trust me, you don’t want to work there. That’s where all the riffraff hangs out. Girl’s like us don’t belong in places like that.” Lindsey folds her gloves up and places them in her purse.

“Right.” I smile at them and give them a quick wave. “Well, it was great seeing you, but I really do need to get going. Take care!”

I slam my door shut and shove the key into my ignition, peeling out of my parking spot and racing toward home. I think about what they said, about girls like me not belonging in a place like
Red’s
, but they don’t know me. Not anymore. And the problem with being at the top of the societal ladder is that the only way left to go is down, and they have no idea how far I’ve fallen.

I strip off my clothes, wrap a towel around my waist, and grab my shampoo and soap before heading to the showers. Our crew was the first back which means if I’m quick, I can take a lengthy shower to wash off all the dirt and smoke before the guys come back and we head into town to meet with my dad and Jules for dinner. After having spent the past eighteen hours out on the line trying to keep the fire from spreading toward town, a night out with a juicy steak and my fiancée sounds like the perfect way to spend my night.

Fiancée.
The word still throws me every time I think about it. If I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t think I’d ever get married. It’s hard to believe in
‘til death do us part
when I’ve seen the way relationships are like a game of Jenga. The longer they last, the more they’re built up, but there are always pockets of discontent burrowing their way into the structure, threatening to bring the whole damn thing down with one tiny misplay. I’d seen it in my parent’s marriage.

My mom left my dad when I was thirteen, when she packed a suitcase in the middle of the night and disappeared from our lives. My dad tried for a while to hide us from the truth, but I knew something was off and finally he admitted that my mom had fallen in love with her personal trainer and was moving to New York to be with him. At first, she’d make the occasional phone call to me and my kid sister, Rylee, and send us cards for our birthdays. But as the years went on, those became less and less frequent, until finally she stopped having any contact with us at all.

I looked her up on Facebook after Rylee’s death out of curiosity when she never bothered to show up to her own daughter’s funeral. I know she knew about it though because our lawyer confirmed she got the letter my dad had sent. Turns out, the day of Rylee’s funeral, she and her shiny new family took off to visit Disney World. She chose a theme park over her own daughter’s funeral. When I told my dad, he just shrugged and said she’s happier now and went back to his crossword puzzle. No anger. No bitterness. No revengeful plots. That was my dad, good through and through, despite the fact that his wife had broken his heart and abandoned her kids, all he wanted was for her to be happy. I used to wonder why he didn’t date and try to meet someone else, but late one night I found him staring at their wedding photo when he didn’t think anyone was watching, and I realized he wasn’t single out of fear of having his heart broken again. He was single because he was still in love with his ex-wife and didn’t have his heart to give. I suppose some loves last a lifetime whether they work out or not.

“Yo, Tater,” a voice calls from outside the bathroom. “Your girl’s on the phone wanting to make sure we’ll be there on time.”

Peeking my head out from behind the shower curtain I see my best friend and jump partner, Matt, standing in the doorway with my phone in his hand. “Yeah, tell her to give me a minute and I’ll call her when I get out.”